Spy Vs Spy
by darkangel38
Summary: The world is going to end.. or is this only what Mulder believes to be true? A MulderScully story
1. Default Chapter

Author's Note: Hey, my first posted X-Files story. I've been obsessed with this show for like 5 years, and I just recently caught the bug again and started writing another one. This idea popped into my head one day, and I hope it all works out. Anyway, enjoy, and I'd love to know how I'm doing, so send me over a review if you have time :)  
  
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Title: Spy Vs. Spy  
  
Author: darkangel38  
  
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"Don't worry about the world coming to an end today. It's already tomorrow in Australia." -- Charles Schultz  
  
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J. Edgar Hoover Building  
  
11:30 PM  
  
"Ahhh.." Mulder stretched out behind his clunky wooden desk and swung up both feet onto one side, accidently knocking over a large pile of folders and papers to the floor. He ignored it for a second, arms cradling his head from behind and closed his eyes. The mess didn't bother him in the least bit. He certainly wasn't known to be very organized.  
  
-Scully will be pissed if she sees this.- His mind reminded him silently.  
  
Mulder wrinkled his nose knowing it was right and took his feet off the desk to clean up the papers. She wouldn't remember the correct order of course.. He bent over and shoved the papers all back into its generous pile when he noticed one lone file had slid under his desk. Groaning because he couldn't reach it from his seated position, Mulder rolled the chair back and dropped to his knees, poking his head under the desk.  
  
The phone suddenly killed the silence and shrieked from above. The surprise of the noise made him slam his head on the desk and he crawled out from under, one hand rubbing his bump, the other clutching the stupid file. He tossed it onto the pile, still on his knees, and checked his watch, now curious about who was on the other end of the phoneline.  
  
11:30pm. Who would be calling him then? Scully. Was she in trouble? With both of their pasts, that thought always sprang to his mind first.  
  
Not waiting for another loud ring, he reached over and snatched up the phone, still kneeling.  
  
"Mulder," he said into the receiver and waited for her voice to answer him with the ever so predictable, "Mulder, it's me."  
  
Except his partner's voice he expected to hear was replaced with a gruff, older - cancerous voice.  
  
"So we chat again."  
  
Mulder slowly got back into his chair and grit his teeth. What did this son of a bitch want now. He stayed silent for a minute, gripping the black phone against his ear.  
  
"What the hell do you want," he growled at him. So much for a relaxing night.  
  
"Now Mulder, no need to be angry with me. I call as a friend."  
  
Mulder wanted to throw the phone across the room and then stamp it a few times.  
  
He scoffed in ultimate hate and was about to respond, when the smoking man continued.  
  
"I have some information you may want to hear.."  
  
Oh what information was it now? Aliens were waiting to be interviewed in his office? A UFO was crashed in the smoking man's backyard? The smoking man *was* an alien?  
  
"Information, what information-" he was cut off once again.  
  
"-It will save your partner's life," his cancerous voice cut off Mulder's rant.  
  
And the hook. The smoking man knew him too well. 'Keep your friends close but keep your enemies closer'. That was sure the truth.  
  
Mulder clenched his jaw and leaned back in his chair. Did he really want to be tied up in all of this again? Did he want to be open to Alien Bounty Hunters, the 'goons' that always seemed to corner him in the parking garage with their cars in gear, just waiting for him to cross their path?  
  
But his last line, 'save your partner's life', he couldn't ignore. The curiousity and new worry took over and killed all previous thoughts.  
  
"What about Scully?"  
  
+++  
  
101st and 102nd Avenue  
  
12:30 AM  
  
The chilly September air brushed past his skin with icy fingers but Mulder barely noticed. He leaned against the driver's door of one of the Bureau company cars, arms crossed, waiting. He was filld with a tinge of rage, worry, concern, curiousity - the works. He couldn't believe he was back in this position. Waiting at the corner of 101st and 102nd for that son of a bitch.  
  
Before the phonecall, he had been in absolute, complete bliss. Had finished his report for their latest case, was just getting ready to head home for a long night of sleep.. but no, he was standing at the same 101st and 102nd corner because he needed to know what could save Scully's life. If anything, he just couldn't take the chance that maybe the smoking man wasn't selfishly lying this time.  
  
'Mulder, you're an idiot.'  
  
A black car pulled up a few moments later and Mulder eyeballed it curiously. The car came to a stop in front of him and the backseat tinted window rolled down halfway. The smoking man's face appeared, a cigarette poking out from between his thin lips. He lifted the cigarette and blew a lungful of smoke out the window. It disappeared into the black night, and he nodded.  
  
Mulder uncrossed his arms and strolled to the other side of the car to get in.  
  
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Scully finished brushing her auburn hair and shut off the light to the washroom connecting to her bedroom. She found it ironic that she was brushing it directly before bed, but did it everyday anyway.  
  
She wondered what Mulder was up to as she draped her robe over a chair and crawled under the covers of her bed. They had no ongoing case at the moment. Mulder had volunteered to finish their report and had sent her off. He was probably sleeping.  
  
-Dana, this is Mulder we're talking about. Knowing him, he's running through a forest after a white light.-  
  
That Mulder sometimes. He never just let himself relax. She could finally relax though. No paperwork to keep herself up working in her bed. And if she slept now, she might even get eight hours.  
  
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Mulder cracked his knuckles and stared straight ahead as the mysterious driver took him to places he wasn't sure about.  
  
"The Government is hiding things, Mulder," the smoking man took a long drag off his cigarette and stared straight ahead. Mulder looked down at his hands and kept cracking them, even though there was nothing left to crack. "Extraterrestrial life was discovered in the outskirts of Oregon. You remember Oregon, don't you?"  
  
"Yes," Mulder responded. Of course he was just saying something that would have definately perked up Mulder's ears. But Mulder had to follow his own philosophy to 'trust no one'. The smoking man had made him believe before, with devestating ramifications. Why not this time? He was just taking Mulder for a big gullible ride. But now Mulder had learned to keep all of that in mind while talking to him.  
  
"You do not seem too interested, Mr. Mulder. I know things that you would kill to learn. But I will make this simple. The extraterrestrial life that was found, was alive." He took another long drag, his wrinkled face almost seeming to crack.  
  
Mulder turned to look at him. Alive? He was completely satisfied enough to find remains, but a true, alive one? Was he serious?  
  
The smoking man noticed the sudden interest and almost smiled a little bit. If not saying that his partner needed to be saved would get Mulder's attention, then telling him this new classified information would.  
  
Once again, Mulder was about to speak - ask a million questions a minute - but the smoking man continued his story.  
  
"It was transferred to Area 51 of course. Highly supervised and those who leaked the information were murdered on the spot."  
  
Mulder shook his head, trying to absorb all of this fascinating information.  
  
"How do you know all of this?" He questioned. The smoking man now turned his head toward Mulder.  
  
"I have contacts and sources, Mulder. You should know that," he took the last puff of his cigarette and stubbed it generously into the ashtray inside the door handle.  
  
"And why are you telling me this?"  
  
The smoking man ignored his question and continued.  
  
"The world is coming to an end. This extraterrestrial life is coming. The government knows this, and they are planning a nuclear attack in response." He looked straight ahead again.  
  
The car turned a corner which shut Mulder's dropped, open mouth.  
  
"What?" he asked in shock. He couldn't be serious, could he? It made sense though. He had been waiting for this moment.. The world was going to end?  
  
"I suggest you take precautions. And don't bother telling anybody, because they won't believe you. I'm sure you know that from experience." He almost smiled again and went to his inside suit pocket for his cigarette pack.  
  
Mulder said nothing, but stared at him. Searching for the lying asshole inside that he was known to be. He couldn't read him that good this time.  
  
"Why are you helping me?" Mulder asked, that being almost the most burning question of all. What was the smoking man's motivation? What did he want in return?  
  
"I told you Mulder," he took a silent puff off the cigarette and the end burned through the darkness. "I call as a friend."  
  
Mulder stared at him, when the car finally stopped.  
  
"I'll keep in touch," he concluded and looked straight ahead again, keeping the cigarette close to his lips.  
  
Mulder paused for a minute, but then got out of the car and noticed he had been dropped back off at 101st and 102nd. The car drove away and he stared at it intensely for a moment, still absorbing everything that he had just been told.  
  
How could the world be.. ending? The aliens were coming? Nuclear attck? Jesus.  
  
Mulder ran a hand through his hair and started to his car that was still parked silently in the alley.  
  
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	2. Chapter 2

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J. Edgar Hoover Building  
  
8:00 AM  
  
Scully walked down the stairs to the basement. After a full night's rest, she was ready for almost any case Mulder was to throw at her this morning. As she neared closer to the office, a loud banging from inside alerted her, and she pushed open the door.  
  
There was Mulder behind his desk, smashing the wall with a sledge hammer, dressed in slacks and a blue dress shirt, sleeves rolled up. -The same thing she swore he had been wearing the day before.  
  
"Mulder?" she questioned, her brow narrowing, her hand still on the office's doorknob. He hadn't heard her, and continued to bang, bits of plaster and cement making a messy pile below. He had already smashed quite a bit; a large mutilated hole had developed.  
  
"Mulder!" she shouted to be heard over his noise. He heard this and turned around, lowering the sledge.  
  
"What the hell are you doing? Redecorating?"  
  
His eyes were wild and they looked almost excited. Sweat clung strands of his hair to his forehead and his breathing was rapid from the exercise.  
  
"Scully-" His lungs got caught n his throar and he attempted to regain control over his breath. "You'll never guess what's going to happen." He continued to cradle the sledge in his two hands, showing no signs of quitting his destruction.  
  
"Did you even go home last night, Mulder? You look terrible," Scully commented and shut the door. She took a step closer and folded her arms, showing no interest in his exciting news.  
  
"The world is going to end Scully, the aliens are coming!" he almost shrieked. He was so giddy and scared. Scully narrowed her eyes further. Mulder was having delusions again. That's what happened when he didn't sleep.  
  
"Mulder-"  
  
"Did you hear me? The government, they're covering it up, but the aliens are coming to take over, and they already found a live one, and-"  
  
"Mulder, stop. Sit down, you're going to give yourself a heart attack," Scully ordered and walked closer.  
  
"No time to sit down, Scully. I have to finish this bomb shelter," Mulder lifted the sledge and went back at work on the hole.  
  
"Bomb shelter?" Scully rolled her eyes. He needed rest.  
  
He suddenly stopped the destruction and turned around slowly.  
  
"Well, you don't expect me to die like everyoen else and miss out on the aliens, do you?" he said a little too seriously, which worried Scully even more. He always babbled about aliens, but never to this almost schizophrenic degree.  
  
"Mulder, take the day off and go home and rest," she told him and walked around the desk a little bit.  
  
"No time to rest, Scully. He didn't say when the world was going to end. It could be in an hour. Every minute counts." And as if his own words had fueled him, Mulder threw the sledge even harder into the wall, causing large chunks of cement to fall to the ground.  
  
'This prison death cell in the basement is already surrounded by cement, why make an extra shelter?'  
  
This was utter insanity. Mulder was destroying the building, his office, and even his own mental health.  
  
"Who said, Mulder?" she interigated and uncrossed her arms. For a minute she didn't think he had heard her, but he answered quietly, "The smoking man."  
  
Scully almost went into fits of internal rage. That fucking bastard. He just wouldn't leave Mulder alone.  
  
"Mulder, you know better than to trust him-"  
  
This caused him to abruptly stop the mayhem and he dropped the sledge top to the floor, holding the handle up along his waist.  
  
"Don't you trust me, and my judgement?"  
  
Uh oh, something was going wrong; he was angry. She didn't know what to say to him.  
  
"Of course I do," she pleaded, "But-"  
  
"But what? Do you think I'm crazy or something? That I'm seeing things? That I'm just a nutjob who belongs surrounded by padded walls?" he narrowed his eyes at her.  
  
She was lost for words and didn't resoind. Neither did he as he picked up the sledge again and resumed. "I'm just trying to save your life," he mumbled under his breath and hit the wall harder.  
  
"What?" What did that mean?  
  
He stopped again and turned around.  
  
"Scully, if there's even a *chance* that he's right about this.. I don't want you dead out there while my 'crazy' self is in here and alive."  
  
She said nothing again. He was being sweet about the whole thing, but...  
  
Again, he resumed. Scully left the office.  
  
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8:30 AM  
  
She returned about twenty minutes later, hoping to find that he had tired himself out and was sitting back at his desk doing some 'real' work. (If chasing after a troll that lived in the sewers *was* of course).  
  
She was pleasantly surprised as she walked back down the stairs to find it almost silent. Okay, he was done. Now she would have to live with staring at that hole in the wall, and stepping over cement, plaster, and ripped papers that littered the floor.  
  
Pushing the door open for the second time that morning, she spotted what Mulder was up to then. He had stopped with the sledge, yes, but was now on his knees in front of his 'bomb shelter' picking at it with a pen. His tie was off and beside his desk in the mess.  
  
Scully crossed her arms again and watched him.  
  
Was he sick? He didn't look sick.. Except for the sweating, but that had just been caused by his activity and excitement. Scully thought of alerting Skinner before this got too far, but then she thought of poor Mulder being pulled away in a strait jacket, with a bill from the Bureau for the damage clenched in his fist.  
  
'How will encouraging him help either, Dana?'  
  
It wouldn't. So she took a seat across from Mulder's desk and watched him silently drive himself insane.  
  
+++  
  
Time & Location Unknown  
  
"We have his trust." The smoke billowed from his nostrils and he looked at the burning end of the cigarette. "Now he will be saved. For them." His cracked mouth curled up into a grin.  
  
"What about his partner? We have to assume he told her," a voice came out of a slender man who looked as though he had just stepped fresh out of College.  
  
The smoking man paused, holding the cigarette between his thumb and index finger, rolling it gingerly, he answered simply, "She can go too. She's done it before; she knows the drill." And with that he chuckled madly and tossed his cigarette butt ahead into the roaring flames of the fire place.  
  
Fourty-eight hours to go. Time for a phonecall to Mr. Agent Mulder.  
  
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End file.
